


The New Sled

by Kristoff Bjorgman (KristoffBjorgman)



Series: Hansoff AU [1]
Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Anal Masturbation, M/M, Masturbation, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-25
Updated: 2013-10-25
Packaged: 2017-12-30 11:08:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1017865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KristoffBjorgman/pseuds/Kristoff%20Bjorgman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The entire kingdom of Arendelle is swept up with coronation fever as the twenty first birthday and ascension of its newest queen is less than 24 hours away. Tucked away in a corner of the town marketplace stands the only person not excited for the new era of Arendelle's royalty - Kristoff Bjorgman, the ice harvester - who is far more looking forward to the gigantic crowds he expects will all be requiring his icy wares.<br/>After an unfortunate series of incidents involving his trusty old sled, however, Kristoff finds himself trapped in an abandoned barn overnight. With the clock ticking down until the coronation and the temperature quickly dropping as a result of the strange weather behaviour that's been occurring for the past few weeks, Kristoff must come up with a more creative way of warming up than simply shivering on a pile of hay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The New Sled

**Author's Note:**

  * For [#Frozen](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=%23Frozen).



> Warning: Extreme levels of dirty Kristoff smuttiness ahead. Seriously, I have no idea how explicit people wanted this thing so I went as dirty as I could.
> 
> Do not read if you object to any of the following:  
> * Hot sexy ice harvester masturbation.  
> * Hot sexy ice harvester ANAL masturbation. (Nothing too nasty. This is fiction, not reality, after all)  
> * The very idea of Kristoff being romantically and sexually involved with anyone other than Anna when he was younger.  
> * The very idea of Kristoff being romantically and sexually involved WITH ANOTHER BOY when he was younger.
> 
> There are probably some extremely minor spoilers somewhere in here (it does take place a day before the events of the movie, afterall). There's nothing in here that the trailers haven't shown though.
> 
> Some parts are probably a little bit shaky - I've done little to no editing on this and literally wrote it from start to finish. I'll probably polish it up a bit later on in the week.
> 
> The smut starts about 2/3 of the way down, if you want to be outrageously rude and skip the first part of the story. (Just kidding. I know that I would surely be impatient and skip ahead to read some dirty Kristoff action.)

Today just hadn’t been Kristoff’s day.  
The ice harvester kicked in the door of the abandoned barn, grunting with exasperation as the hinges buckled and detached from the rotting wooden frame. He swore under his breath, grumbling to himself as he made his way into the tiny structure and collapsed on a pile of hay that sat abandoned in one corner. Through a grimy, dust-covered window he could see the sun dipping past the horizon, a brilliant glow of oranges and purples staining the sky above before fading into inky blackness. The beauty of this sunset was lost on Kristoff, however, who instead chose to curse at the oncoming night sky. Summer nights in Arendelle only lasted four hours due to the kingdom’s precarious placement at the top of the globe, a fact that the mountain man was silently thankful for. He couldn’t possibly imagine trying to survive a similar scenario during the land’s winter months, when night and darkness reigned for most of the day.  
Kristoff’s loyal reindeer, Sven, gingerly poked his head around the doorway and glanced into the darkening barn. He took a cautious step inside, ears pressed back against his head. The ice harvester sighed, a smile escaping onto his lips at the poor creature.  
“It’s okay, buddy,” he called out, “I’m not mad at you. It’s that damn sled’s fault, that’s all.” Kristoff motioned with his head for the deer to join him by the hay pile.  
Sven’s ears perked up and he bounded into the small building. Navigating his hooves clumsily around the rusting farm tools that were scattered around the wooden floor, he made his way over to his master and lay down next to him.  
“I guess it’s lucky we found this place,” Kristoff looked around the dimly lit barn at the rotting wood and long abandoned equipment. The duo were still hours away from home and the thought of trying to navigate their way back in the dark made the ice harvester’s head spin. The wolves that ruled the hills surrounding Arendelle castle during the twilight hours were just an added bonus.  
Kristoff shifted his body around in the hay, trying to find a more comfortable position to lie in.  
It was going to be a long four hours.

***

The day had started as plainly as delivery days usually did; the blonde ice cutter loaded up his sled with that morning’s harvest and began the long trek down from his snowy mountain home to the village just outside Arendelle castle. Navigating his creaky old sled down the mountains during the summer was normally a difficult task on its own, but the weather had been acting strangely for the past few weeks and where there was usually only grass and dirt to pull it through there were now patches of snow and large puddles littering his usual delivery route.  
Sven was clearly struggling to pull the heavy load on his own so Kristoff grabbed a spare rope attached firmly to the front of the sled for that very purpose and helped his friend heave the harvested ice through a field of muddy grass.  
“You know what would make this whole trip easier?” Kristoff asked himself in the deep voice he often used to represent his reindeer.  
“Yes I know, you tell me every summer!” he responded in his normal tone of voice.  
“A sled with wheels sure would make things easier. You wouldn’t have to help me lug all this ice down into the village every summer.” Kristoff stopped pulling, deep in conversation with himself. Sven, used to this abnormal behaviour, took the opportunity to regain some of his strength while the ice harvester spoke for him.  
“A sled with wheels would be entirely impractical in winter, and I can’t afford to have a different cart for each season. Besides,” he patted his firm stomach, “helping you pull the ice down in summer is ten times a better workout than just cutting ice ever could be.”  
“You do look particularly fit this year!” complimented the Sven voice.

Kristoff stopped talking for a moment to look down at his body. It was true; the past few weeks of abnormal weather had led to the mountain man doing a sizeable portion of the workload involved in heaving the decade-old sled loaded with a tonne of cut ice down the path to the village, and in the past seven days he found himself helping out every single delivery due to the mud and snow that resulted from the erratic weather patterns.  
The effects of this intensive strength exercise were clearly paying off and while he would never have considered himself to be particularly skinny in the past – a lifetime of cutting and transporting heavy cubes of ice resulted in a fit physique – the level of which he had bulked up in just the past three months was extremely surprising. Initially he had attributed it to puberty, the final stage of the nineteen year old’s development following the growth spurt he received at seventeen and the soft, light brown chest hair that had grown in the past year – a thin line ascending up past his navel before branching out to cover his pectorals. It wasn’t until he began receiving regular compliments on his sudden change in size that he realised it was due to helping Sven with the ice deliveries every day. The fact that he began eating more due to the amount of energy required to pull the sled probably helped as well.

Kristoff patted his stomach again, proud of his new look. Growing up he was smaller than the other ice harvesters his age and it was a nice feeling to have the kids that had teased him as a child now being impressed at the size of him.  
“Come on Sven,” he sighed, picking up the rope once more, “let’s get a move on. We don’t want to be late getting home, there’s a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”  
The town was bristling with excitement, coronation fever sweeping through villagers and shop owners alike. The month-long countdown to Princess Elsa’s twenty first birthday was finally about to end and the land of Arendelle was only a day away from receiving its new queen.  
Kristoff wasn’t particularly fussed with the news as the kingdom’s monarchy played very little effect on his life in the mountains. He was more excited about the expected influx of tourists, royals and dignitaries alike for the coronation, all of whom would be requiring ice. For the past week or so he had steadily begun cutting and loading more ice onto his sled to meet the demands of the growing town and he was eager to return home as soon as possible to start preparing for the coronation day. He hoped to cut and sell at least twice his usual load, but he was slightly worried that his rickety old sled wouldn’t be able to handle such a large amount of ice.  
Kristoff made his way into the center of the town and directed Sven towards his usual spot next to the fish market. While Kristoff was still extremely young and relatively inexperienced compared to the other harvesters that sold ice to the kingdom, he was smarter and more business savvy than most of them and knew the best place to sell ice was right in front of the people who would need it most – those who had bought meat or fish and wanted it to stay cold.

“Well hello there, Kristoff!” a booming voice called out across the marketplace.  
“Afternoon, Erik.” Kristoff nodded back at the man approaching him.  
“Still using that busted up old thing, I see,” Erik motioned towards the sled piled high with ice.  
“Still trying to convince me to buy a new one from you, I see,” Kristoff rebuffed.  
“Kristoff, I have only your best interests at heart!” the salesman forced a wounded expression onto his face, “All of the other ice harvesters buy new sleds each year. To keep up with the latest trends, as it were. You’ve had that thing for almost a decade now, I’m worried it might give out on you one day!”  
“Yes, well if it does I’ll be sure to come straight to you,” Kristoff sighed, reciting the line on cue.  
“Ah, you have no idea how greatly that pleases me!” Erik clapped his hands together, “To sell the great Kristoff Bjorgman a brand new sled is my greatest wish!”  
“Like I said, if this one breaks-”  
“You know all the girls like a man with a brand new sled!” the salesman wiggled his eyebrows as he stepped closer. In one swift motion he clasped a hand around Kristoff’s broad forearm. “My, you’re getting strong these days! It feels like it was just yesterday you were a little boy setting up shop for the first time!”  
“Yeah, I can remember,” Kristoff shook off Erik’s hand with a roll of his shoulder, “I believe you tried to sell me a new sled back then as well.”  
“Well, there’s no harm in being persistent!”  
“Okay, well I’ve got a lot of ice to sell and you’ve got some more people to try to pawn a sleigh off onto so how about we both go back to what we do best and leave it at that then.”  
“Such wit!” the salesman chuckled, “Well then, until tomorrow, Kristoff!”  
“Sure thing,” the ice harvester forced a smile back at Erik as he retreated to his sled stall on the other side of the market.  
“That man has no concept of personal boundaries,” Kristoff grumbled in his reindeer voice.  
“You said it, buddy!” he patted Sven on the back.

The afternoon flew by quickly, Kristoff’s ice selling faster than usual due to the town’s influx of visitors. Although he didn’t notice it, a lot of his new customers were women and even a couple of young men who had come to ogle at the handsome harvester. His regular clients made up the majority of his sales however, and Kristoff made sure to give them appropriate discounts on the price for their loyalty, another sales technique he had created. Sven stood by patiently, spending most of his time giving the local kids rides around the marketplace on his back.  
Before long, Kristoff had sold his last block of ice and was more than ready to leave the crowded marketplace behind and return home. He tied Sven back up to the now-empty sled and together they navigated their way out of the town square and towards the main gate leading out into the mountains.

“Goodness Kristoff, it’s worse than I had imagined!” a voice shrieked out behind him.  
The ice harvester sighed and turned to face the sled salesman for the second time that day.  
“Just look at this thing! It’s practically falling apart!” Erik protested, gesturing wildly with his hands.  
“It’s fine!” Kristoff was tired and desperate to leave.  
“It most definitely is not fine, it’s about to break. Look at it!” the man climbed up onto the back of the sled and began jumping up and down on it. “It’s going to give way any minute now! Here, climb up with me and you’ll see.”  
“What? No.” Kristoff frowned and looked at Sven. On command, the reindeer took a step forward, dragging the sleigh behind him. The salesman lost his footing and tumbled to the ground. Kristoff continued on his way home, ignoring Erik’s pleas to reconsider. As soon as they reached the main gate leading out of the town, Kristoff stepped up onto the front of the sled and sat on the small platform behind Sven.  
“See? It still works fine,” he grumbled to himself before giving the reins a small tug. Sven took off at a swift pace, the path leading back to the ice cutter’s mountain empty of other people. The entire way back Kristoff grunted under his breath about the sled salesman’s uncanny ability to push all the wrong buttons.

Truthfully, Kristoff knew his sled was falling apart and was more than ready to buy a new one, were it not for Erik’s persistence. The mountain man was stubborn to no end and the thought of admitting that he required a new sled was out of the question. He had even made his way into the town one weekend with just Sven, hoping to find another person in the village who sold sleighs. Unfortunately, it appeared as though Erik was the only one in the entire kingdom of Arendelle to sell the vehicles.  
They were halfway home when Kristoff grew tired of hearing the sled salesman’s words echoing in his head and pulled Sven over by the side of the path. Angrily, he climbed out of the front and stepped up onto the back of the sled, where the cubes of ice were normally harnessed into place.  
“About to break, ha!” he sneered and jumped high into the air, somehow trying to prove a point. Unfortunately, Kristoff had underestimated his newfound strength and weight, and when he descended back onto the sleigh his feet punched right through the weakened wooden panels and he found himself waist-deep in a hole centred right in the middle of the platform.  
Sven panicked and turned around to look at his friend, forgetting that he was still harnessed to the now-useless sled. Kristoff was jarred backwards and his torso collapsed onto the front of the vehicle, making the hole larger.  
Cursing angrily, the ice harvester tried to pull himself out only to be yanked forwards again as Sven turned in a circle, anxiously trying to help. Kristoff grabbed hold of the splintered wood and heaved as hard as he could, only to damage the sled further. Eventually he struggled free of the hole and collapsed onto a small patch of snow, groaning at his sore back. Sven stood over him, a worried look on his face. With help from the reindeer, Kristoff managed to pull himself back onto his feet and he assessed the damage done to his sled. While it would still function quite easily as a regular sleigh, its main purpose – which was to transport ice to the town – was beyond repair. The hole now took up most of the raised platform, shattered wooden boards bend out of shape and cracked along their lengths. It would be impossible to carry even a regular sized load of ice, let alone the doubly sized shipment he was hoping to sell for the coronation.

Kristoff hobbled back to the front of the cart, the sled salesman’s words ringing in his head louder than ever.  
“Nope, I can fix this,” he reasoned with himself. No need to bring Erik into this. Surely there was a large wooden plank or something back at home he could place over the platform.  
He climbed back into the seat at the front of the sled, cringing as his bruised backside touched the wooden stool. With a weak flick of the reins, Kristoff sent Sven back onto the path only to be thrown forwards onto the reindeer’s back when the sled wouldn’t move.  
“Oh, what now?” he groaned and slid back down onto the grass.  
“It looks like it’s stuck!” came a weak Sven voice.  
“I know it’s stuck,” Kristoff replied to himself and kicked the side of the sleigh, “Move you piece of junk!”  
His foot became lodged in the gap between the platform and the runner at the base of the vehicle. Twisting his ankle to try to pull free only resulted in the mountain man losing his balance, and with a heavy thud Kristoff collapsed to the ground once again.  
“Come on!” he complained and kicked the base of the platform with his other foot. His ankle became dislodged from the sled and Kristoff managed to struggle back onto his feet only to watch in horror as the ice platform came loose from the runner and the entire sleigh crumpled sideways. It was entirely beyond repair, a fact that Kristoff was incredibly frustrated to realise. He needed a new sled, and fast. Sighing, he unhooked Sven from his harness and left the broken pile of wood in a heap by the side of the track.  
“Come on buddy, look like we have to go back.”

The sled salesman was beginning to pack up for the day when Kristoff and Sven returned to the village. Delighted by the ice harvester’s sheepish expression, Erik leapt at the opportunity to finally make a sale with the man who had been refusing his assistance for years now.  
“I don’t need anything fancy, just a plain old sled will do.”  
“Ah, now that’s a problem. Sleighs have changed since you last purchased one, Kristoff, and there are all sorts of bells and whistles on even my low range items!”  
“Okay, I’ll take the cheapest one you’ve got then.”  
“The cheapest? Well, if you insist then.” Erik motioned towards a plain looking wooden sled, modestly decorated with carvings and painted details.  
“Yep, that’ll do.” Kristoff pulled out his money satchel, hoping his earnings for the day would be able to cover the cost.  
“Now, it only has the very bare essentials – wooden seating, raised platform, a wheel converter, et cetera.”  
“Wait, what? This thing has wheels?” Kristoff was legitimately impressed, an expression that the salesman had been waiting for.  
“Yes, if you’ll direct your attention to the base please,” Erik bent over and pulled a lever along the front side of the sled. The solid wooden runners used for navigating through snowfall lifted up and two pairs of wheels descended to take their place. With another pull of the lever the wheels were raised back up and the runners lowered back down.  
“How long have they been able to do that?”  
“Well it’s all standard sledding equipment now,” the salesman lied, “they’ve been able to convert into wagons for years.”  
“Okay, I’ll take it!” Kristoff looked towards Sven and grinned. Maybe his old sled falling to pieces wasn’t such a bad thing after all. “How much to buy it right now?”

Whatever price he was hoping for, Kristoff had severely miscalculated.

“What? That’s plain robbery!”  
“I understand your frustration, however like I’ve already told you, this is my cheapest option available. I would, however, be willing to offer you a slight discount due to your valiant but eventually useless stubbornness over the years.”  
Kristoff looked back down at his money pouch. There was nowhere near enough in there to cover even half the cost of the new sled.  
“Look,” he tried to reason with Erik, “I can’t afford it right now and I really need a sled before the coronation tomorrow. I’ll definitely have enough money after I sell all my ice so is there any way I would be able to, you know, take it with me now and pay for it tomorrow?”  
“Kristoff, Kristoff, Kristoff…” the salesman sighed dramatically, “Unfortunately I’ve been burned before, so I don’t allow credit. How do I know you won’t take my sled and run off with it, never to return again?”  
“I live right up there,” Kristoff pointed bluntly to the snow-covered mountains, “I’ve been coming into town five days a week for the past nine years.”  
“Okay, I’ll make a deal with you,” Erik led the man into a darkened alleyway behind his store, where a rickety old sled sat. “This is my own personal vehicle. It’s old, I know, but I make a meagre living and simply cannot afford the luxury of an item I don’t truly require. I will allow you to borrow my sled, for a cost of course, so you can deliver your ice tomorrow and purchase a new one with your profits.”  
“Can’t I just buy this sled off you?” It was old, sure, but it looked sturdy enough.  
“Ah, but you see, I need my sled and couldn’t bear to part with it.”  
“But you just said you ‘don’t require’-”  
“Look,” Erik’s usually cheery demeanour vanished and he frowned at Kristoff, “I am giving you a very generous offer here due to our close friendship. You can either lease my sled for the night and return it to me tomorrow when you purchase your new one, or you can miss out on the largest crowd of potential customers you are ever going to see in this town. Do you understand?”  
“Yeah yeah, of course,” Kristoff swallowed his pride, not bothering to point out that fact that he barely considered the salesman to be an acquaintance, let alone a close friend.  
“Well then, it that case,” the man’s faced perked back into its regular smile, “It’ll be thirty to lease this sled for the night. We can negotiate the cost of your new one when you return it to me tomorrow afternoon.”  
Kristoff handed over the money and attached the sleigh’s harness to Sven, who strolled happily back into the marketplace, glad to be helpful again.  
“Enjoy the trip back,” Erik called out to the man and his reindeer as they hurried out of town, “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“Okay, Sven,” Kristoff mumbled as they left through the main gate for the second time that day, “we lost a lot of time back there and need to get home before dark. I was gonna try to get some ice cut and ready to go for tomorrow, but it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen. You need to get us back as quickly as possible, okay?”  
“Sure thing, Kris!” he replied in his reindeer voice before pulling hard at the reins. Sven took off, racing up the hillside towards the mountains in the distance.  
“I hope it’s not too late…” Kristoff had no idea how much time had passed since he sold his last cube of ice and at his best guess he figured there was only an hour or so of sunlight left.  
The borrowed sled was uncomfortable to sit in, much more so than his old one. Sven hard particular difficulty getting used to the weight after all those years of pulling the same cart and he eventually reached a point where he’d completely worn himself out and couldn’t run any further. The reindeer turned and looked forlornly at Kristoff.  
“Hey, it’s okay, boy. We’ll get there eventually, don’t strain yourself!” Kristoff lept off the wooden stool at the front of the sled and began walking besides Sven instead.  
“You’re getting really heavy!” said the reindeer voice.  
“It’s all this newfound muscle!” Kristoff exclaimed, patting the center of his chest.

***

Kristoff patted the center of his chest, already bored. He had only been in the barn for half an hour and there were still at least three and a half to go before the sun rose again and they could continue on their way home. Erik’s sled had become more of a burden than Kristoff realised when the runners got bogged in a puddle that his last one would have had no difficulty sliding through so he had to navigate both Sven and the vehicle carefully around the mud-laden path. They had made very little distance by the time the sun began to set and the abandoned barn they had passed by every day on their way to the town suddenly became a godsend in their hour of need. Thankfully, the moon was full and a bright beam shone in through the window by Kristoff’s hay pile, bathing the small room in a soft blue light.

Sven had fallen asleep only minutes after they settled down, curled up in the opposite corner of the building. Kristoff was too angry to sleep, both at himself for breaking his sled and at Erik for not trusting him enough to give him the new one before he could pay for it. While it was still the middle of summer, Arendelle nights were notoriously cold and Kristoff could already feel the chill beginning to set it. He lived his whole life among the permanently frozen tundras of the ice cutters so he was by no means bothered by the cold. He was wearing his warmest gákti as well, due to the fact that it had been snowing when he left for town that morning. Of course, what with the strange weather the kingdom had been having lately, it suddenly became hot and sunny moments later and he spent the rest of the day silently cursing the fact that he wore his heaviest article of clothing.   
Lying in the pile of hay he was now thankful for the extra layers to keep him warm through the short night, however he could still feel the coldness creeping in. A fire was completely out of the question – he hadn’t brought his flint and even if he could find some method of starting up a blaze, the barn’s floor was strewn with hay and the building’s small size and lack of ventilation would result in either the entire barn burning down or filling with dangerous smoke.

So Kristoff lay there, cold and angry, trying to think of some way to pass the time. His thoughts began to drift back to the customers he served in the marketplace and for the first time that day realised just how many good looking people had approached him, clearly not needing ice but buying it anyway. One timid young woman stuck out in particular, coming back three times throughout the day to talk to him before buying a single cube of ice and scurrying out of sight. Kristoff was both flattered that the girl had paid so much attention to him and suddenly guilty that he hadn’t realised that fact earlier on in the day. Although he visited the town daily to sell his ice, Kristoff still found it difficult to talk to other people and would often insult or hurt their feelings without meaning to. His new body meant a lot more people had been flirting with him over the summer and he was still completely confused as to how to respond to such compliments.

Kristoff considered himself a complete novice when it came to love, and he was unsure as to if ‘the one’ was even out there, or whether they were male or female. Growing up in the isolated tundra of the ice cutters, he had only had one real romantic relationship, with another young harvester his age named Johan who had broken his heart. The two boys, in the beginnings of adolescence, were confused and scared by what they shared and were desperate to figure it out. Kristoff remembered a time long ago when he discovered a tribe of rock trolls who controlled the northern lights with knowledge about a great deal of subjects and together he and Johan had sought them out to explain what was happening between them. The trolls, as wise as Kristoff remembered them to be, told them that love can take many forms and although what the two boys had was less common than what their mothers and fathers possessed, it was no less valid.  
The ice harvesters didn’t mind the two becoming a couple, just as long as it didn’t interfere with their work, and while Kristoff now lived in a small house on the outskirts of the tundra, growing up he belonged to a community of ice cutters further up the mountains. It wasn’t particularly common for boys to pair up like they had, however it did occur from time to time and the older men were used to it. The women of the village, in charge of passing the stories and tales of their ancestors down to the children, occasionally spoke of the great spiritual men of the past, wise leaders who took other men as their husbands. These stories fascinated Johan and he would often badger the women for more information about these other men like him.  
The trolls warned them that although their people was accepting of the two boys being together, other areas of the world were less forgiving. They advised them to keep it hidden when visiting the castle town to sell their ice, as the villagers were particularly suspicious of anything that was different to what they knew.

The pair were almost inseparable for years after that first meeting with the trolls and when they were both sixteen they began to share with each their own thoughts on love. Kristoff was surprised to learn that Johan could only ever see himself loving or being with another man, while Johan was equally as surprised to find out that Kristoff could love women as well as men. Their relationship grew closer as they grew older and eventually became sexual, two seventeen year olds nervously trying to impress the other, both of them inexperienced but eager to learn. Their first time had been a disaster, one that they would later look back on in the following months and laugh about. Johan often talked about travelling the world when he turned eighteen, escaping the monotony of the ice trade and going on one grand adventure before settling down. Kristoff couldn’t think of anything worse than leaving everything behind and before long the inevitable happened and the pair went their separate ways. Johan initially sent Kristoff letters detailing his travels, from the sandy shores of Denmark where tales of mermaids filled the towns to the far-off land of Agrabah where rumours of an enchanted lamp were whispered in the dark of night. Eventually the letters began to slow down before they stopped altogether. Kristoff was worried that something had happened to Johan, that he had been kidnapped or killed. He was too scared to face the fact that the pair had simply drifted apart.

Kristoff snapped back into reality and looked down to notice he was absentmindedly rubbing his hardening crotch at the memory of his time spent with Johan.  
“Well I guess that’s one way to pass the time…” he muttered to himself before pulling the heavy gloves off his hands.  
His memories were far too upsetting to revisit at a time like this and Kristoff had always found it awkward to picture himself with any of the people he sold his ice to, so he turned to what was fast becoming his favourite method of stimulation – his own, now muscular, body. He tugged at the purple sash around his waist, undoing the belt that held his gákti tight against his body. The heavy jacket was quickly peeled off, as was the long sleeved shirt underneath. Kristoff’s bare chest was exposed and he ignored the cold sting of the night air as he began rubbing his left hand over his stomach. Glancing nervously to the opposite corner of the barn, he was relieved to see Sven still fast asleep with his back turned to the ice harvester.

The thin trail of hair running up Kristoff’s stomach tickled as he ran his fingers up and down the skin, feeling the faint outline of his muscles. His nipples, broad and pink against his pale skin, were beginning to harden from the cold and he raised his other hand to touch them and a gentle pinch sent a shiver down his spine, tightening his pants as he began to caress the stiff circle. The skin across his chest was stretched firm and a triangle of dark blonde hair spread out between his nipples and up to just under his collarbone. Kristoff flexed his abdomen, feeling the muscles grow under his hand, tightening the skin. He couldn’t handle it anymore. Kristoff stopped rubbing his stomach and stuffed his left hand down into his pants.  
“Coooold!” he blurted out, trying to muffle the sound as much as he could.  
Ignoring his stiffening member for now, Kristoff pulled his other hand away from his chest and shoved both palms lower into his pants, sandwiching them between his thighs. The heat of his body quickly warmed both hands up and his cock began to twitch with anticipation against his forearm, pressed tight against his undergarments. Kristoff was too cautious of the old pile of hay he lay on to remove his pants fully and chose to slip the front down instead. He pulled his penis out of the cloth underpants, the shaft stiffening even further at it met with the cold night air. With his left hand he began rubbing his heavy testicles, rolling the balls around in their hairy sack deftly with his fingers. His right hand formed a loose grip just under the soft pink head of his cock and slowly lifted up and down, running the foreskin up and over the tip. Kristoff sat up and pulled his pants down to his ankles, spread his legs apart and lifted both cock and balls fully out of his undergarment. The cloth was held fast by a simple knot and with a quick tug of his fingers they came undone, exposing the entire front of his body to the air. While still gently jerking off with his right hand, he buried his left palm deep under his balls, enjoying the sensation as they bobbed up and down in time with the movement of his other hand.

Kristoff’s penis was now fully erect and he pulled his hand away to admire the organ jutting out from his crotch. He had always prided himself on being among the largest of all the boys in the ice cutters village, despite its relatively smaller size when soft. Left untouched in this sitting position, his foreskin sat comfortably over the top of his penis, covering half of the pink tip. He spread his legs even further apart and the skin around the base of his cock stretched, pulling the foreskin back down under the head. Kristoff flexed his ass, the fuzzy cheeks tightened and loosened as his cock bobbed up and down. He absentmindedly drew his left hand up to his face and breathed in the heavy scent of his own balls, the musky, raw smell of sex. As he began jerking off with his other hand once more, Kristoff popped his index and middle fingers into his mouth, coating the digits with saliva. He lowered them back down to his crotch and pressed the wet fingers against the area under his heavy ballsack, coating the loose flap of hairy skin with his dripping spit. With his right hand he began to masturbate faster, the tight fist enclosing his foreskin sliding up and down the pale shaft of his cock. A long trail of saliva drooped from his mouth as he bent his head over, landing in his impatient palm. Two more jerks and the entire length of his cock was covered with the sticky lubricant and with a satisfied grunt Kristoff was able to use the sudden lack of friction to press his fist against the base of his penis and pump up and down the entire length.

He shoved the middle finger of his left hand back into his mouth, licking it expertly with his eager tongue before pulling it back out, the entire digit coated in saliva that shimmered in the moonlight. The finger was lowered once again to his balls, this time pressing tight just above his asshole. He rubbed the area in small circles, groaning with pleasure at the sensations it provided. Kristoff shifted in the hay once again, pressing his back against a supportive slope to give him better access to his own body. A thought flickered through his mind and he let go of his penis, using both hands to clumsily pull his pants entirely off of his legs. As the waistband lowered past his ankles, his shoes slid off alongside the dark grey lengths of cloth and he was left barefoot and almost completely naked. With the pants removed, he was able to recline back into the hay and spread his ankles wide apart, lifting them off the ground. Kristoff drew his knees back towards his chest and wrapped his right arm around his thigh before grasping hold of his cock once again. The new position twisted his wrist, forcing his palm to grab the shaft from underneath.

Kristoff began jerking off again and used his other hand to cup his balls. He lowered his left leg back down to the ground and with his wet middle finger started to inch down lower and lower until it was pressed against the top of his asshole. Years of experience with Johan had taught Kristoff the importance of keeping that area clean and the patches of snow scattering the Arendelle countryside provided a quick, albeit cold, method of freshening up after he had done his business. He circled the rim of his hole with the lubed up finger, feeling the muscle tighten involuntarily before he managed to control it. His right hand began jerking his cock faster as he patted his soft anus a couple of times with the middle finger before rolling the saliva around its surface with a quick circular motion. Kristoff coated the digit with a new layer of spit before pressing it tightly against his asshole and a new wave of pleasure engulfed his body as the tip entered his body.

His cock began to leak precum and he knew he didn’t have much time left, so let go of his penis completely and focused on his rear. With his newly freed hand, Kristoff was able to grab his asscheek and spread it wide, giving him easier access to his hole. He slid his middle finger down to the second joint before pulling it back out quickly, wriggling it to give more sensation. The tip was inserted again, this time making circles to loosen out the muscle. Kristoff was able to insert his index finger alongside the middle one now and he slowly began running the two in and out. His asshole now relaxed, Kristoff put both feet back on the ground before he grabbed hold of his penis again and began pumping faster, his balls slapping against his bare skin and he furiously jerked off. Stretching his thighs apart, he dripped another trail of saliva onto the middle finger of his left hand before inserting it all the way into his ass. Probing around inside his own body, Kristoff found what he was searching for amidst the squishy skin, the small sensitive lump that was his prostate. With a deep breath he pressed the tip of his finger tight against the gland and began rubbing circles into its surface. Stars flashed before his eyes and he let out an unstoppable groan of pleasure as he felt waves of energy building up in the base of his penis.

Angling the organ upwards to his body, Kristoff could feel the pressure make its way right up to the tip and he held it in for as long as he could before pressing his finger against his prostate once more, releasing the orgasm from his body. His asshole tightened involuntarily against the base of his finger as the first load of hot, sticky jizz erupted from his body, cascading high into the air before arcing downwards and landing with a satisfying splat between his nipples. Two more shot out to arrive on his chest before a slow stream of dribble and the orgasm ended. With a moan Kristoff pulled the finger out of his ass and used his other hand to give his spent cock a few more jerks, the foreskin catching some stray sperm, sending it running down to the base of his shaft.

  
His ears ringing and vision still blurry from the force, Kristoff breathed deeply to regain control of his senses. Were he had been a few years younger, Kristoff would have been able to lower his head and raise his crotch high enough to suck himself off, a talent he had learned one bored summer’s night when he was fifteen. His body was now far too large to allow his lips to meet his penis and Kristoff had to resort to other methods of achieving a toe-curling orgasm.  
Kristoff quickly regained his composure and looked down to the mess splattered all over his torso. His chest hair was matted with sweat and the first shot of jizz, while the second and third ones were beginning to pool in his bellybutton. His cock was beginning to soften, rubbed red from the force of his jerking. Thick streams of spunk collected in the hair at the base of shaft.  
Kristoff lifted a hand to brush the damp, sweaty hair out of his eyes. The actions of the past twenty minutes warmed him up better than any fire ever could, but the hot sensation of lust had left his body the same time his orgasm did. Sitting upright on the hay, Kristoff caught the first glob of sperm as it rolled down his chest with his fingers and licked it off with his tongue. The salty taste reminded him of his days with Johan, lost to time, and he scooped up the white pool around his navel to lick it up as well.

Sitting up awkwardly on the pile of hay, Kristoff stumbled to his feet, his body still recovering. The cloth undergarment, no longer fastened tight against his waist, fell to the floor and Kristoff made his way completely naked to the broken-in front door of the barn. Beginning to shiver from the cold, he stepped outside and made his way to the first pile of snow he could find, a few steps away from the threshold of the building. Flexing his body in preparation, he grabbed a handful and rubbed it against his chest, washing away the last traces of sperm on his torso. Another lump of snow was directed to his crotch and his penis shrunk from the cold as he removed the mess caught up in his pubic hair.  
Kristoff peeled back his foreskin and aimed his cock at an angle to the ground, away from the patch of snow. With a moan he let out a stream of piss, the aftereffects of his orgasm still running through his shaft. The sensation lasted until he had finished emptying his bladder, the sharp shock eventually petering down to a numb buzz. He quickly wiped his hands in the snow patch and hurried back inside the barn, desperate to put his clothes back on. Sven lay uninterrupted in sleep in the corner and as soon as Kristoff had pulled his heavy outfit back onto his shivering body, he made his way over to the restful reindeer. Curling in a ball, he used Sven’s heavy chest as a pillow and began to drift off to sleep. Three hours of rest would be better than none at all and he knew the reindeer would wake him when it got light outside.

  
Tomorrow he would continue on his way home with Erik’s rickety old sled and begin cutting as much ice as he could. He’d dip into his own personal icebox if he had to, to get as much ice down to Arendelle castle for the coronation as he could. He needed that new sled as soon as possible and he was fine working extra hard tomorrow when he could easily take the next day off; the massive earnings he would amass would more than cover both the sled and a full day’s work.  
Looking around the dimly lit barn once more before falling asleep, Kristoff smiled with the knowledge that he was the only person in the world to know what had happened on that hay pile. He might return here in a couple of days with some old furniture tied to the back of his new sled and set up a rest stop of sorts, just in case he ever got caught outside in the oncoming darkness ever again. There was an overstuffed couch filled with sheep’s wool he’d traded an entire day’s pay for back at home that would make a perfect replacement for the pile of hay. It wasn’t like he was planning on doing anything particularly exciting in the next couple of days anyway. He might even come back the day after tomorrow to begin setting things up.  
His clothes and Sven’s body had already begun to warm Kristoff back up and he finally dozed off, happy that he had stumbled across this abandoned barn that had proven useful in more ways than one.

**Author's Note:**

> Well then, what started off as a short little smutty fic ended up being significantly longer with a whole lot of probably unnecessary storytelling added into the mix.
> 
> Thank you to #frozen on Tumblr for your patience and over-enthusiasm, I hope I managed to live up to your expectations. I have no idea what you were expecting for a Kristoff smutfic because I don't really read all that much smutty fanfiction, so I'm not entirely sure just how explicit you all wanted it.
> 
> A couple of notes I'd like to throw in here:  
> * I really, really liked the idea that the weather's erratic behaviour was due to Elsa freaking out in the leadup to her coronation, causing it to snow or hail without her knowing it.  
> * Erik the sled salesman was pretty much every sleazy car dealer stereotype rolled into one. I'm sure that when the movie is released, the man who sells Kristoff his new cart will act nothing like this but oh well.  
> * Kristoff is aggressively bisexual due to a thought I had while reading the novelisation of the movie. He tells Anna that he's no expert on love but that he knows people who are and even though they end up being the rock trolls, he still seems really cynical to the idea of 'the one' and the relationship between Anna and Hans, so ~what if he's had his poor heart broken before?~  
> * I'm fully prepared to write more about Kristoff and Johan so if you all want it then just go ahead and demand it in a comment or in an ask over at kristoffbjorgman.tumblr.com


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